My Birthday the Calendar Speaks

My Birthday,The Calendar Speaks Since January 4, 1951********** (Written for the Shanks, the Youngs & Jim) “...Raging glory...Forever young...”. Bob Dylan ————————————————ttt———————————————————- The calendar speaks Of this day, seventy years ago, when I was born. Around 6 p.m.. Wearing a crown Of thick, black hair. And a never-stop smile, Instilled to fight the blues. I will not Want to imagine my mother in the pain of birth... Only her joys in holding a daughter. My mom Without any clues (thank God) to imagine all The pains and demands My growing would cause. Over and over. Whoever would have had the thought that My growing would go on this long? Most likely, only God, who put the maps before me All along the way. But, easily I can see How his plan unfolded perfectly: From my doings to the coursings of my heart; From illnesses to ecstasies of my spirit’s growth; From palettes to pirouettes to poetry. Who would have prognosed I’d live this long? Certainly not I. From outrunning my mistakes To fighting beasts; churning through shadows, Longing always for the light; Praying for friendships with angels, and to be Worthy enough to hear the psalms of Eden — which Would have taken longer than this long — but, Whoever would have guessed I’d live this long? Not my doctors, not my teachers, not my neighbors. They never saw life’s lessons feeding me to scream Survival, then passion, and desperately to keep Knowing the smiles that blessed me from birth! Thanks. Thanks, then, to life and God, and Love, yes... Love has held me all along. Thanks, too, to New Poetry soup friends, so great ********. ************ ******** (c) sally Young eslinger for 1/4/2021 Thanks be to God